


Rewards

by Do_the_Cool_Whip



Series: BruDick Bingo Prompts [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Earth-3, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Prompt: Massages/Backrubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Do_the_Cool_Whip/pseuds/Do_the_Cool_Whip
Summary: When Talon does a good job, Owlman has to reward him.





	Rewards

**Author's Note:**

> So, I signed up for the prompt thing so long ago. And I just finished the first one. But, like I should warn everyone this has no plot. Also, I did the prompt wrong. I went back and checked, it was under hurt and comfort, and like a fool I wrote something that might actually be the exact also. Apparently, I can't follow simple directions. Also, I don't know what's wrong with my brain that I saw "Backrubs/Massages" and decided that this was totally a viable way to fill that prompt. Lastly, I decided to try something new and write something sexy. I failed. This isn't even a little sexy. So, you know. Sorry in advanced.
> 
> Oh! I almost forgot. I haven't specified an age for Talon, but I highly doubt he's eighteen which is why this has the underage tag. Enjoy! ... Or at least try to. I make no promises.

 

Dick kneels naked by Bruce’s bed, as he waits for Him to finish His shower. He’s hard, his erection straining upwards, the sounds of agonized screaming still echoing through his head. 

Owlman had let him run loose. One of the drug trafficking groups had tried to stiff Owlman His share of the profits and Talon had been allowed to make an example of them. He had been allowed to cut and stab and tear and strangle and—Dick shudders, dragging his attention back into the moment, and tries not to remember all of that glorious blood, spewing out of wounds and covering everything. 

The door clicks open and Dick clutches his knees, fingers turning white from the pressure. Bruce walks in, a towel wrapped around His waist, beads of water gliding down His chest and abs, and works on drying His hair with another towel. He works His way down, patting Himself dry and Dick is filled with an overwhelming rush of jealousy. Bruce walks over to him, drops the damp towel on Dick’s head, and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

Dick takes a moment to smell the towel, just a brief second to inhale His wonderful scent. He shivers slightly and bites back the moan trying to slink its way out of his throat. 

He uses the towel to dry off Bruce’s left leg followed by His right leg. His breath comes out in small little pants, as he reaches down for the jar sitting on the floor by his legs. He unscrews the lid and scoops out a generous amount of the cream inside. Gently, he picks up Bruce’s left leg and begins working. 

He massages the foot thoroughly, working each toe individually as he smoothes the cream into His skin. From the foot he works his way up the leg, massaging the calves and the small amount of strong muscular thigh that’s exposed. His fingers trace the edge of the towel, but Dick knows better than to let them slide underneath. 

Dick places His leg on the ground and reaches for the right leg. The process is the same, pressing his thumbs into the ball of the foot and the arch, as he slowly rubs the cream into His skin. The calves, the shin, the knee: Dick gives every inch of His perfection the attention that it deserves. 

When he’s done, Dick closes his eyes and imagines running his hands over the rest of that perfect skin. There’s the sound of the slight shuffling of fabric and when Dick opens his eyes, he sees what had been hidden beneath the towel. 

He slams his eyes shut, even as a soft moan slips out of his lips. Part of him desperately wants to look again, to gaze upon Bruce in all His perfection, but he somehow manages to resist the urge. 

He does not deserve to see Bruce like that. 

No one does. 

Fingers knot in his hair, forcing his head to tilt upwards, and Dick allows his eyes to flutter open. “I was watching you work.” 

Dick swallows and bites his lower lip in a pitiful attempt at moistening his suddenly dry mouth and holding in all the questions that try to spill out. 

Bruce’s free hand rises to trace his face gently, following the curve of his cheekbone down to his lips, where He thrusts His thumb in roughly. Dick suckles on the digit, another whimpering moan escaping him. 

“You broke them. There are whispers of you now. Others are afraid that if they cross Owlman, his Talon will come for them.” His voice slithers into a whisper as He leans down to Dick’s ear. 

Dick can feel his heart beating faster, a deep flush overtaking his face, and his breath coming out in soft pants. The faint scrape of stubble against the side of his face causes him to sob in need with each warm puff of air that wafts into his ear. 

“I believe you’ve earned a reward for your efforts.” 

Dick keens, an embarrassing sound that he’s unable to stop, as Bruce pulls away from him. He looks down at Dick with those blue eyes that are frozen over in amusement. The grip in his hair tightens and Dick feels his back arch at the sensation. 

“Tonight, you may do all of me.” 

Dick gasps, eyes widening, unable to look away from this man. He takes too long to process the words because Bruce uses His handful of hair to toss Dick to the floor in front of Him. 

“Get to work.” 

Dick’s fingers are trembling when he reaches for the jar, dipping his fingers back into the slick cream. Even as he delicately presses his fingers up to the mid-thigh of Bruce’s left leg, he can’t bring himself to release the breath he’s holding. He kneads the strong muscles there as he works the cream in, letting out a choked breath of air when he finishes. He goes all the way up to the juncture where Bruce’s thigh meets his torso. 

Dick pauses, fighting for control of himself, but he’s so close. Bruce’s penis is so close to his hands. It’s perfect, just like the rest of Him, resting between His splayed legs and it would be so easy to brush his fingers against it. Just the smallest of touches, that’s all Dick wants. Just one little touch to the flaccid monster between Bruce’s legs. 

He resists the urge. Somehow, Dick forces himself to keep his hands away from there and move onto the other leg. He can’t stop himself from leaning in, though. He leans in enough that he’s able to take a deep inhale of the scent between His legs.  

It’s faint. Bruce just came out of the shower, so the smell is not nearly as strong as it could have been. He swallows his disappointment at the smell of body wash, no hint of musk to be found, as he pulls back and finishes up with the right leg. He pulls his hands away, picks up the jar, and offers it to Bruce. 

The man watches him, making no move to reach for it. Dick places the jar back on the ground after a minute. He doesn’t understand. Bruce had said he could do all of Him and Dick had done His legs, but— 

All of Him? Surely, Bruce hadn’t meant—Dick groans softly, feels a heat coiling in his belly at just the thought of touching the rest of the man’s skin. Bruce is smirking down at him and Dick would bask in the knowledge, but part of his brain has broken at the implications of what Bruce had wanted. 

He could be wrong, though. It took him so long just to earn the right to rub Bruce’s feet, let alone work his way up to the edges of the man’s towel. If he’s wrong, Bruce might just break all of his fingers. The thought makes him moan again, as he slips into a fantasy of Bruce and all of His intensity focused completely on himself. No Alfred or thugs or business employees or anyone else to distract him from Dick. Just the two of them until Bruce finishes with him. 

This could be a test to determine if Dick knows his place. But Dick knows his place: It’s underneath Bruce. His cock gives a little twitch at the thought and Dick can feel wetness smearing across his belly at the tiny motion. 

Dick slips his fingers back into the cream, rubs both of his hands together smearing the sticky white substance and heating it up, and places his hands on Bruce’s chest. Bruce doesn’t break his fingers. Dick lets out a soft sigh and begins to gently stroke the skin beneath his fingers. He can feel the occasional scar beneath his fingertips, souvenirs of His training to become Owlman, and he traces his fingers over them.  

His fingers trace the definition of the muscles in His abdomen, dipping into His belly button, before dropping down low—as close to Bruce’s cock as Dick can get—and works the cream into the skin there, fingers petting the dark hair growing there. When his hands glide back up to the pectorals, it becomes too much for Dick. He can’t not take advantage of this. He takes his time, patiently teasing Bruce’s nipples into hardness, breaths coming in shuddering gasps for every second he’s allowed to do this. 

His fingers still aren’t broken. 

Dick moves his hands away when His nipples have pebbled. His hands are shaking again and Dick is holding back soft whimpers as he moves onto the shoulders. He’s so close. He can feel a tightness in his balls and both his belly and legs feel like they’re soaked in precum. He caresses the shoulders, applying a little more cream to his hands, and spends extra time trying to massage away the stress they must be carrying. 

From there, he works his way down the left arm, caressing muscles that are strong enough to lift grown men by the neck. He firmly digs his thumbs into Bruce’s palm, making little circular motions with them, as he stares at the thick fingers. He rotates each finger, making sure to massage each knuckle in them, but he shivers when he gets to the thumb.  

The same thumb that had been shoved into his mouth. 

He pays special attention to this digit, unable to stop himself from licking his lips as he works on it. 

The right arm gets similar treatment and Dick can feel himself calming as this goes on. The heat rushing through his veins begins to cool. He’s confident he can control himself throughout his reward. 

Bruce lies down on His stomach. 

Dick’s knees buckle. He catches himself on the edge of the bed, one hand braced on the mattress, while the other digs crescent shaped marks into his palm. He can’t think, can barely function, with Bruce lying in front of him like this. 

His eyes sweep over the length of Bruce’s body. He’s perfect. Broad shoulders, muscled back, firm ass. Everything about Bruce is perfect. Dick tries to recollect himself, to slip back into that calm state he was in a moment ago, but every time his eyes drift back to that amazing ass, his composure shatters. 

His eyes drift to that ass far too frequently. 

His hands are trembling again, and when Dick picks up the jar from the floor, he almost drops it. Crawling onto the bed, Dick feels his own excitement surge. Because he’s in Bruce’s bed. He’s naked and in Bruce’s bed. He’s naked and in Bruce’s bed, while Bruce is in the bed and naked too. 

It takes every ounce of willpower he possesses to keep his hands off that ass. Dick kneels beside Bruce—and it hurts to resist his urge to straddle Him, to sit on His ass and grind his hard cock—and starts working the lotion into His tense back muscles. His fingers pressing into painful stress knots, while his eyes continue to focus on Bruce’s rear, Dick takes his time working. The longer he takes, the longer he can stare. 

Bruce lets out a soft sigh. 

It’s almost inaudible, it would have been inaudible if not for the silence in the room. Dick pauses for a moment, it takes that long for him to process that sound, to understand what it means. It changes the experience. Dick eyes finally tear away from Bruce’s ass and target His back. He works the area, hunting for any other large knots like the one he just worked out, massaging with a sort of diligent ferocity he’d previously been too distracted to have. 

He needs to hear that noise again. He needs to hear any noise Bruce makes. 

There’s a barely stifled groan when Dick focuses on the shoulder blades. The tension returns with a vengeance. Heat coils in his belly, tighter than before, and for a second Dick thinks he’s going to cum. His breath comes out in short gasps, muscles shaking from the effort it takes to rein himself in, and his eyes end up back on His ass. His hands twitch towards his cock and Dick has to ball them into a fist to stop himself. 

To stop himself from jerking off and cumming all over Bruce’s fantastic ass. 

It’s not easy, but Dick controls himself. He moves his hands as close to the swell of His ass as he dares, finishing up by rubbing cream into the last bit of skin. He pulls away, scrambles off the bed, and waits for Bruce to sit up and pull on His pyjama pants. 

He doesn’t. 

Bruce remains lying exactly how He is. Which means that Dick is missing something. He racks his brain, going over His orders and what he’s done to fulfill them. He’s done everything. His eyes fall back on that ass. 

Well, almost everything. 

There’s no way. Bruce would never—if Dick’s wrong, Bruce will beat him within an inch of his life. 

A price he’s willing to pay. 

He climbs back onto the bed, picking up the jar, and scooping out a generous amount of lotion, rubbing it between his palms. He leans over, heart pounding in his chest, and grasps an ass cheek in each hand. 

Nothing happens. 

Bruce doesn’t get up and start beating him. Dick groans, unable to stop himself, and begins groping His ass. He palms the flesh in his hands, pulling them apart so that he can see the treasure trove hidden between them. 

He starts panting, he tries to regulate his breathing, but it’s too hard with the fire that’s bubbling in his belly, boiling his blood and sending it racing through his veins. 

It’s gorgeous, Dick can see the way the pubic hair frames His asshole, growing thicker on His ball sac that rest below. Kneading His ass, Dick leans down and tries to stop himself from shuddering, as his mouth begins to water. 

He wants to rim Him. Dick wants to bury his face in Bruce’s ass and shove his tongue as deep into His asshole as he can. He wants to taste every inch of Bruce’s ass as the man grinds back down on his face and trembles with the force of his orgasm. 

After He’s come, Dick can slide a finger into him and then another and another and another and another. 

Bruce’s muscle contract, Dick can feel them tensing in his hands, and the tight ring of muscle Dick has been staring at winks at him. 

He can’t hold back. His orgasm is ripped from him, Dick screams, his back arching and both hands caressing His ass. He comes so hard he starts shaking from the force of it, white spots dancing in his vision, and he collapses when he’s finished. 

When he collects himself, pushing up onto his elbows, Bruce is sitting on the edge of the bed watching him. Bruce swipes His hands over a smear of fluid on the sheets and gives Dick a cold look. “You made a mess.” His voice is thick with disapproval, but there’s a soft touch of amusement hidden in the small twitch of His lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps softly and drags himself over to Bruce. Dick is still panting, still feeling the light thrum of arousal humming through his veins, when he reaches over to grasp Bruce’s sticky hand and draws it into his mouth. Dick licks every inch of His hand, sucking on each finger and dipping his tongue into the nooks between them. 

Bruce is watching him intently, with His cold blue eyes that make Dick shiver. He wants to impress him, he wants Bruce to notice him. To desire him. 

Dick takes a deep calming breath and fits as much of Bruce’s hand into his mouth as possible. He wants all of it. He wants Bruce’s hand to reach all the way down his throat and into his stomach. But he can’t. Bruce’s hand is too big and Dick’s mouth too small. Dick ends up with four of His fingers crammed into his mouth, so far back he almost starts gagging. 

Bruce smirks, thrusting His hand forward roughly, and pulling his hand free before Dick starts gagging. “I’m more than you can handle.” 

Dick whines softly. He wants to deny, to grab Bruce’s hand and shove it right back down his throat. But he can’t. This is his reward. If he misbehaves, Bruce might never give him another reward like this.  

Bending over the mess on the sheets, he begins licking them clean. He keeps his eyes locked with Bruce’s as he sucks the damp material into his mouth. He tries to drag this out for as long as he can because if he had his way this reward would never end. 

It does come to an end, unfortunately, when Bruce reaches over to grab Dick by the hair, the action causing Dick to moan again, and throws him to the floor. He pouts when he picks himself up from off the floor. 

Bruce looks down at him expectantly and Dick realizes his reward still isn’t over. He’s done everywhere, stroked every inch of His skin. Not the face or neck, though. But Dick knows that Bruce uses a special cream for his face. And touching Bruce’s neck is a death sentence. 

He’s missing something. He has to be. Dick scrutinizes Bruce’s body, eyes roaming over Him starting from His feet going up His legs, lingering on His perfect cock, moving to His abdomen, then His pectorals and— 

Dick stops. 

His eyes fall back down to His cock. 

Bruce let Dick grope His ass, what are the odds He’ll let Dick fondle His cock? 

Definitely a risk worth taking. 

Dick scans the bed and he finds the jar of cream sitting tilted on the bed, seconds away from spilling its contents on the sheets. He grabs it, scoops out a generous amount of cream, and smears it all over his hands. It’s overkill, probably more cream than Dick used for the entirety of Bruce’s chest, and Dick’s hands are slick with the excess. 

He reaches forward, eyes locked with Bruce, and grasps His cock in his hand. There’s no retaliation, no punishment, just the quirking of His lips into a smirk. 

Dick shivers, tightening his grip gently and focusing on the silky feeling of Bruce’s cock in his right hand. Dick’s hand strokes downward causing the foreskin to pull back slightly, revealing the tip of his penis and Dick begins salivating. 

He licks his lips again, his left hand coming up to gently rub against the exposed glands, while his right continues to carefully work Bruce’s cock. When a small bead of fluid leaks from the tip of his penis, Dick swallows a mouthful of saliva and wipes the liquid away with his thumb.  

He’s panting now, unable to stop himself, as Bruce hardens in his fist. He wants a taste, just a little one. A couple more strokes of his hand produces another bead of liquid and Dick fights to control himself. 

He moves his left hand down to Bruce’s balls and gently fondles them. They don’t fit perfectly in his hand, just a little too large for him to fit in one hand, but Dick likes the image of Bruce’s balls spilling out of his too small hand.  

Bruce makes a soft noise, neither a sigh nor a groan, but something in between. Dick bites his lips hard enough to taste blood and the flavour makes him shudder and groan. He watches as another drop of precome oozes out from the tip and Dick tracks its path as it dribbles down the side of Bruce’s cock, spilling over his fingers on its descent. 

His movements become smoother, more controlled, and more confident the longer he continues. His hands make a slick squishing sound with each pump and Dick can’t tear his eyes away from the sight. 

He's doing this. He's actually doing this. Dick can hardly believe what Bruce is allowing him to do. He wonders what he'll have to do to earn this reward again. Fingers grip his hair and tighten painfully, forcing him to look up, as another soft sound slips from His lips. 

"Faster." At the order, Dick moans again and speeds up his movements. Bruce keeps his head wrenched back, forcing Dick to maintain eye contact, and Dick likes what he sees. The heat in His gaze, the slight clenching of His jaw, and the flaring of His nostrils as He gets closer to His orgasm. As much as he would like to watch his hand slide along Bruce's cock, he can't feel any disappointment at being forced to watch His face. 

It happens in an instant. In the time it takes for Dick to blink, Bruce's eyes shut for a second and Dick can feel a spattering of fluid on his fingers. Bruce releases his hair and Dick glances down at his fingers and he can't stop the high-pitched whine that escapes him. He licks his lips, bringing his fingers to his mouth, when Bruce grabs his wrist hard enough to bruise. 

His eyes burn with disapproval as he looks down at Dick and reaches to grab one of the discarded towels from the floor. "We both know you haven't earned that." He wipes His semen off Dick's hands with rough movements and Dick has to close his eyes in order to fight his urge to disobey and have a taste. He stays silent and unmoving as Bruce finishes wiping his hands and moves around the room to dress for bed. 

After the light flicks off, Dick crawls to his spot on the floor at the foot of the bed and lies down. He curls into a ball and uses one damp towel to cover himself. And even though he knows he shouldn't, he knows he will be punished in the morning, Dick falls asleep, hard and aching, suckling on the semen damp part of His other towel. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had an entire intro to this fic that I ended up cutting because it did nothing for the story. It was just sitting there pretending that it was relevant. So, for those of you interested in how this was supposed to start, I've posted it below. Just a bit of an extra that I wrote so I want to post, but I can't justify posting attached to the fic.
> 
> When Owlman walks into the Nest, Dick can tell that He’s had a good patrol. He stays kneeling by the car, head bowed low, and waits for the man to acknowledge him. 
> 
> He doesn’t. 
> 
> Owlman begins to strip out of His uniform and continues on deeper into the Nest without even sparing a glance at him. As he listens to the soft sounds of Bruce’s footsteps fade away, Dick closes his eyes and reminds himself to breathe through the pain. 
> 
> He remains kneeling for three hours, never moving an inch, not even when his bladder begins to protest. 
> 
> There isn’t a sound to indicate Bruce’s entrance into the room, but there is a presence. A sudden pressure that sends shivers down Dick’s spine. There’s a painful grip in his hair, his head is jerked up to face Bruce, and Dick beams at Him. Smiles at Him as he basks in the man’s attention. Bruce’s lip twitch ever so slightly and Dick somehow manages to widen his smile. 
> 
> Bruce releases him, stepping back to create some distance between them, and Dick barely manages to hold back the whine in his throat. “Come.” Bruce is already turning to leave before He even finishes the order. 
> 
> Dick almost stands to follow Him. He almost ruins everything and gets up to walk after the man as if he deserves that right. As if anyone deserves to follow in the footsteps of Bruce Wayne. 
> 
> He doesn’t, though. Somehow he resists that initial urge and proceeds to crawl after Bruce. Bruce pauses after a second. He turns and looks back at Dick and just stares at him.  
> 
> Dick continues crawling until he’s as close to Bruce as he can get without touching the man and sullying His air. 
> 
> “What are you doing?” 
> 
> Dick tries to contain his tremors and keep his voice level, “Following you.” 
> 
> “By crawling?” 
> 
> “You never said I could walk.” 
> 
> Bruce’s eyes crinkle slightly, the only warning he gets before Bruce chuckles. The sound is warm, deep, and melodious. It’s magical and Dick revels in the knowledge that he is the one who caused it. 
> 
> “No, I never said you could walk.” Bruce says, after a moment. “I also never said you could breathe.” 
> 
> Dick stops breathing immediately. He doesn’t take a last deep inhale, he just holds his breath mid-exhale the instant Bruce finishes his sentence. 
> 
> Bruce watches him and Dick ignores the constricting feeling in his chest and the way he can feel his heart pounding. He can’t hold his breath for much longer. 
> 
> Dick refuses to break any order Bruce gives him, regardless of whether or not it’s verbal. 
> 
> He reaches down into his utility belt, pulling out the rope like restraints they occasionally use to tie up those who oppose them. He ties a simple lasso knot and places his neck through the loop, pulling it tight and cutting off any chance of drawing a breath. 
> 
> Bruce gives him a smile. It’s cold and sharp, with just a hint of teeth, and Dick knows he would be blushing if he hadn’t cut off circulation to his head. He lowers his eyes from that perfect face and stares at the floor in front of him, waiting for permission to breathe. 
> 
> It never comes. 
> 
> The dark spots in his vision overcome him and Dick collapses on the cold stone floor in the Nest as Bruce watches him from less than a foot away. 
> 
> He wakes up in the same spot that he passed out in, the restraint lying just beside him. Holding his breath, Dick sits up and reaches for it, prepared to do it once more. 
> 
> “You may breathe.” Bruce steps out of the shadows, eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement, and looks over him. With a gesture of His hand, He turns to exit the room. “Follow me.” 
> 
> Dick crawls after Him. 


End file.
